


Meet me where I'm kneeling

by ineptshieldmaid



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Oblique communication, episode coda, gentle d/s undertones, i have a thing for Viktor's thing for kneeling and tending to Yuri's skates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8670754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov has made a terrible mistake. Probably ruined his rapport with Yuri. And any chance he had of a serious coaching career, but that's a minor consideration. He can't seriously imagine coaching anyone but Yuri. The point is, he kissed Yuri (his student? That's not the right word for it. Protége, perhaps. His employer - except Yuri's not paying him, yet) in front of everyone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 8 gave me feeeelings, so here, have an ep 7 coda with 8 in mind.
> 
> Many thanks to twitter pal J for anime cultural acclimatization help (your humble author has never watched an anime before) and spelling advice. And to monksandbones for letting me type this up on her iPad.
> 
> Content notes, caveats and statements of uncertainty in the end notes. 
> 
> I wish to preface by saying that I talked with twitter pal J about Russian and Japanese attitudes to homosexuality, and I ended up deciding not to integrate that realism. The show seems to exist in a delightful neighbouring universe where all of Yuri's community will think he and Viktor are totally adorable, and Viktor probably won't be arrested in Russia. This is a nice universe, I would like to move there.

Yuri does not, in fact, think anything when Viktor kisses him. One moment he's flying across the ice - maybe he has a wild idea of flinging himself into Viktor's arms; maybe he's thinking Viktor will step back, use Yuri's own momentum to spin him around; and Yuri's never liked pair skating but he knows it will be elegant, perfectly balanced, Viktor's weight countering the force of Yuri's flying leap. One moment he's flying across the ice, maybe thinking about that, and the next moment Viktor's leaping at _him_. Yuri doesn't realise he's about to be kissed. He could have said yes, in the car park; of course he wants Viktor to kiss him, and he probably never will now. Yuri's panicking, trying to think of some way he can take Viktor's weight and pivot; there's no way he can lift Viktor or absorb the impact... But it's too late and they go crashing to the ice. Neither of them have a hand free to brace; it's the most undignified fall Yuri's made for years, and probably Viktor's _never_...

Viktor kisses him and Yuri stops thinking.

Viktor says something about surprises and proof, then disentangles himself from Yuri's limbs. There are a few moments, as Viktor pulls him to his feet and turns them both to face the crowd, when Yuri is sure he will never need proof of _anything_ again.

It doesn't last, of course.

* * *

Viktor Nikiforov has made a terrible mistake. Probably ruined his rapport with Yuri. And any chance he had of a serious coaching career, but that's a minor consideration. He can't seriously imagine coaching anyone but Yuri. The point is, he kissed Yuri (his student? That's not the right word for it. Protége, perhaps. His employer - except Yuri's not paying him, yet) in front of _everyone_.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Yuri hadn't said anything, sure, but Viktor knows his tells by now, knows his body as well as he knows his own (except, of course, in ways that might never be relevant now, because Viktor has ruined everything). He'd kissed Yuri in front of everyone, and Yuri had let him, gasped in surprised but leaned up into Viktor's kiss, clutching at him with his hands like Viktor was... well, like he was an especially large katsudon.

Viktor knows what Yuri's body feels like when he's pleased, or excited, or safe, and Viktor would really like to feel it that way some more (preferably up close, and as often as possible, maybe forever) but none of those are what Yuri's body feels like right now. Or his face. Or his anything. Cameras keep flashing, and people keep calling out questions. Viktor keeps his arm firmly around Yuri's shoulders; usually that helps. Yuri appreciates the gesture of confidence and the tangible support. It doesn't feel like he does today, though. He keeps himself very still under Viktor's arm, as journalists call out questions about _your relationship_ and Viktor says 'no comment' over and over again. In the end Viktor cracks and snaps out that if no one has any questions about Yuri's excellent free skate, they'll be going now, thank you very much.

Yuri relaxes a little when he hears that, and leans ever so slightly into Viktor's side. That makes a difference, takes the sharp edges off the cold feeling in Viktor's gut. The medal ceremony's over, at least. Viktor tucks that memory away: Yuri on the podium, holding the silver medal and beaming like he'd been crowned king of the world.

Viktor won't admit it, can barely think it to himself, but he's disappointed. He hadn't though about the questions they'd face, but when the first one came, well. Viktor had looked to Yuri, and had hoped (against all probability and as if he was entitled to expect anything of the sort from Yuri) for Yuri to answer it. Claim him. Say something like 'I love him. I'm going to hold onto him.'

Actually, it's not that improbable. It's nothing Yuri hasn't said to an entire press room before today. But right now, he's just skated a personal best and Viktor's overshadowed that with his ridiculous gesture. If Viktor could kick himself in the head he would. He's so damn proud of Yuri right now, and all he really wants is for Yuri to feel that.

There's no one else in the dressing room when they get back, at least. Phitchit's gear is scattered around, so he's probably still being interviewed. Yuri collapses onto a bench, like someone cut his strings. Viktor shifts closer to him, racking his mind for the right thing to say. 'What would Yakov do?' is no use here. Even if he hadn't realised today that Yuri shouldn't be coached the way Yakov coached Viktor... Even if it weren't for that, Yakov never ruined everything by kissing a skater on live broadcast.

'You kissed me,' Yuri says, looking out at Viktor. 'I mean-' he cringes a little- 'I know you did, I was there. It's just...'

He doesn't _sound_ angry about it. But he's not begging Viktor to do it again, either (unfortunately. Put that with the public declarations, on a list of things Viktor has no right to be disappointed about).

Viktor stops himself from asking 'Did you like it?', because that's not the important issue right now.

'You did really well out there today,' he says, instead, trying to make the words convey what he'd rather express by flinging himself at Yuri's feet (or Yuri over a bed. Or himself off a cliff, at this rate). 'I am... so proud of you,' he says, and Yuri's hands peel away from his face. He's _blushing_ , and that's unfair, if you ask Viktor.

Yuri smiles at him, and stretches a little, like a cat, the exhausted lines of his body softening. One skate scrapes the floor as he stretches his legs, and Viktor doesn't let himself hesitate. He drops down and picks Yuri's foot up into his lap.

Untie the laces. Look up. Yuri's watching, eyes a little wide, flush high on his cheeks. He's not shrinking away. Skim one hand down the back of his leg, not checking for injuries, just touching for the sake of touching.

Viktor pulls the skate off, and the sock after it. Objectively, Yuri's foot is hardly at its most attractive after a day's competition (he's not bleeding, though; Viktor checks for blisters automatically and finds few). Viktor holds onto Yuri's foot regardless of the objective attractions, rubbing his thumb over the skin, and Yuri flexes his toes, arching into Victor's hand.

Yuri reaches out, hesitant, and touches fingers to the thin spot on Viktor's crown. And then he slips his fingers into Viktor's hair, carding through it, fingertips scratching gently against Viktor's scalp. Viktor makes what is probably a very undignified noise and leans into Yuri's hand. His mind briefly wiped of all other concerns, he closes his eyes and lets Yuri pet him.

'Do you think,' Yuri says, startling Viktor, 'they have katsudon in China?'

Of course they do. It's a big city, there's practically every kind of food here. There's no reason for Viktor to sound like he's vowing to accomplish great deeds for love when he says 'I will _find_ you katsudon,' but he does. Yuri doesn't seem to mind, possibly because Viktor's not quibbling over whether silver medal earns him the coveted meal.

'I'll need the other skate off, first,' Yuri says, mouth twitching a little. He doesn't move his foot.

Oh, fuck, Viktor thinks, and carefully sets down the foot he's holding. Yuri pulls gently on his hair until he picks up the other skate and starts on the laces.

* * *

The problem is, Yuri has no idea what he's supposed to do next. Viktor kissing him was excellent. Viktor taking him out to dinner and watching him eat, with a rapt expression like he was watching Yuri skate, or strip... That was terrifying, in a way, but not actually all that new. Viktor’s been looking at him like that for weeks, even Yuri knows that. Viktor's been watching him, and making all kinds of comments about noodles and eggs and… honestly, last night was _fun_. Yuri had made a point of eating slowly, one bite at a time, letting Viktor's eyes follow the chopsticks and linger on Yuri’s mouth. _Eros_ , Yuri had thought, giddy with success and possibility.

Then Viktor had paid for dinner, and said something about sleep deprivation and about planes the next day. Yuri _was_ exhausted, and the end result was he ended up in bed and half asleep by the time Phichit texted urging Yuri and Viktor to join his celebration.

In bed _alone_. Which was a relief, and a disappointment. What would Yuri even do if Viktor wanted to…

The problem, Yuri thinks, glowering out at the tarmac as the plane taxis out, is that this thing, the kissing and whatever comes with it - and he has many ideas about whatever. So many ideas. The hazy fantasies he'd had last year have nothing on the many very specific, terribly embarrassing ideas he's accumulated since Victor appeared in his parents’ onsen - the problem is, this just introduces a whole new realm of ways he's bound to disappoint Viktor. Or his family. Or the entire nation of Japan. And Yuko. Yuko will be very disappointed when she realises Yuri has been kissed by Viktor Nikoforov, and has failed to capitalize on that. Not even by so much as kissing Viktor once in return.

Yuri pretends to sleep after takeoff. Viktor _actually_ sleeps, slumped into Yuri's shoulder. He snores, a little bit. Yuri starts to relax: a sleeping Viktor can't expect him to do or say anything. He's heavy, and Yuri shifts in the seat to get more comfortable. Viktor snuggles right into him, and Yuri slips his arms around Victor and lets himself enjoy it. Being slept on is nice, actually. Viktor’s breathing is calming and for some reason he trusts Yuri, enough to be sound asleep in Yuri’s arms.

When the plane starts to descend, Viktor snuffles and startles awake, looking up at Yuri in surprise. Yuri’s about to apologise- although he's not sure what for- but Viktor smiles and nuzzles his face into Yuri’s collarbone.

The flight attendant comes past collecting rubbish, and gives them a look like they're especially cute puppies. Yuri hopes she doesn't follow figure skating. 

Maybe I can do this, he thinks, and combs the hair back off Viktor's forehead. Viktor makes a pleased noise, and Yuri kisses him on the top of the head.

‘You remember the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship?’ Yuri asks.

‘Of course,’ Viktor says, sitting up properly to look at him. His forehead crinkles a little. ‘Why?’

‘I've decided,’ Yuri says, smiling at him, ‘that's not the most fun I've had on ice during a competition, not any more.’

**Author's Note:**

> Uncertainties: is the large common backstage space where the competitors wait a dressing room? Open to other terms if there's a better one. And do figure skaters wear socks? As far as I can tell most male skaters wear over-boot tights, so presumably something underneath the boot too...
> 
> Content notes and caveats:
> 
> 1\. I presume people who are really squicked out by anything approaching student/teacher aren't watching this show or shipping this ship, but, for the record, I'm a little uneasy with how little canon-Viktor seems to consider the power differential, so I'm playing on that a little here. (The easiest solution would be to decide my headcanon is that wasn't a first kiss, a case I've seen well argued with textual evidence, but I didn't go with that one here.)
> 
> 2\. Lo these many years ago I solemnly swore I would give content notes for age/experience differentials (as opposed to using the underage warning tag, which was difficult to apply in the fandom I was in at the time). Behold! An age/experience differential! It's built into canon so I assume this is no surprise to anyone.


End file.
